Responsibility Ch. 08

The air was cooling down. Rain came. The sky had been so merry during the bath, but now it was dull.

However, Rahela decided against wearing an additional layer.

Rahela had to dress well.

The gown she chose was of a dark red silk, no patterns and no braiding, but there was silvery ribbon trimming. The sleeves had long, wing-like shapes that opened up. A pair of snug, false sleeves had been placed on her lower arms, from over the elbows to the wrists, to give the illusion of two layers. Those sleeves were also silk, but with a thin lattice pattern of gold against a dark brown background.

Her hair was put into straight plaits with spiraling and interlacing ribbons of dark blue. The plaits' ends were kept in varnished, rectangular wooden cases. A fillet of gold was put on her head, and two rings were placed on her fingers. A ring shaped brooch with a long pin was put on her collar. Just enough jewelry to show her status, not too much.

As a servant held a round mirror before her face, Rahela used a toothpick to make her teeth acceptable. Then, with a sigh, she decided that she was looking just as she was. A high class, proper maiden of Testoa. Excellently groomed. Properly clothed. A clean face, too.

Someone handed her a dark green cloak lined with white fur. Its cord was pinned in place. Rahela gripped the cord and sighed again. If she got too hot, she could always remove the garment. She hoped she wouldn't get too hot.

With her maids-in-waiting at her sides, and some chambermaids to guide them, Rahela walked down a hallway. The chambermaids left them at a door, where a guard offered to guide them for the rest of the walk. They stopped down another hallway and to a huge balcony that overlooked many buildings below. The thick roof protected the floor very well. It didn't matter how hard the rain pounded.

Just before they could even think of crossing over to the balcony, the Emperor and his two squires appeared from behind a corner. They had ankle-length gowns. The squires had what seemed to be shorter, smaller versions of Rahela's sleeves. The Emperor's sleeves were still fairly tubiform, but they were significantly longer than they needed to be. Warmth might've been the reason for the additional length, although he didn't have a cloak.

It was still one of the finest things she'd seen the great man wear, except for that useless but dramatic set of armor he'd worn when they'd first met. This tunic gown was made of silk damask with a black and gold pattern of complicated, curved lines similar to vines and branches. There was so much gold that it was almost hid the blackness. A bejeweled belt was around his waist. Pearls and quartz stones.

And this man wore it all with the same easygoing mettle he had while wearing gambesons, leather, chain mail, or plate armor. He tightly smiled down at Rahela. His black hair was loose and shifting around his face.

"Now then," he said to Rahela, "off to the Old Hag."

Rahela had to stop herself from frowning as she followed her Betrothed onto the balcony, where the moist and cool air made her glad that she brought her cloak.

Women and girls. Quite a few. Two women were sitting across from each other, a table with a board game between them. The rest were sitting around the area. Four girls that might've been ladies-in-waiting and two girls that might've been maids-in-waiting. Rahela imagined that each woman playing the game could have two ladies and one maid.

Those women that played that game were very important. Rahela could tell by glancing at them.

If she'd been asked what the most popular color for wimples, gorgets, caps, and veils/headrails were, Rahela would've said white. It was the easiest color to wear. It suited all other colors. That didn't mean other colors didn't exist, though. Undyed and unbleached fabric was common for the most frugal and usually poorest of women. The women with enough money might occasionally experiment with a solid color, or even some small pattern on the hems.

The two women playing the game had apparently experimented.

On Rahela's left, there was a woman with skirts that looked unusually long, dramatically flowing on the balcony's floor. Or rather, the surcoat's skirt was long. That surcoat had three different colors, a base of light pink, swirls of blood red, and slivers of white. The garment made Rahela think of raw meat. As for the gown underneath the surcoat, it was a shimmery gold color, and the figure so well exhibited by the tight fabric seemed healthy. A black cloak was on her shoulders, but most of the length was draped back on the chair she sat on.

A rectangular veil was on her head. It wasn't white. It actually matched the surcoat. This woman had a meat veil on her head. That was the crude phrase that Rahela dared to imagine. A meat veil. Tiny pearls had been sewn onto the edges, but Rahela thought they resembled teeth.

There was no gorget nor wimple; the woman's throat was bare, except for a long and dangling necklace of pearls. More pearls was on the meat surcoat's neckline. A black headdress, almost a rectangle with rounded corners, was on the veiled head, and once again there was a pearl outline.

Pearls and meat. That was Rahela's first impression. There even more pearls on the woman's fingers. Rahela saw them shimmer as the woman moved a painted, possibly wooden figure on the board. Then she rose from her seat, and Rahela's second impression pushed the first aside.

She was damn tall. Maybe even slightly taller than the Emperor.

And she seemed ... well ... Rahela couldn't decide what her age was, although she hadn't given herself much time to figure it out. She let her eyes touch the tall woman's high up face for only a second. Then she bowed so low that the wooden cases on her hair tapped and dragged on the floor. There might've been a forbidding, grim expression on the tall woman's face. That was the most information Rahela could peel away.

The Emperor's shoes made noises, maybe something like, "dahm dahm" or even a, "pahm pahm." Rahela saw the toes of his shoes peek out from his hem. They might've had leather soles, but the rest was mostly red silk with decorative strips of black velvet. Velvet! Velvet was so costly to make!

He went over to the meat surcoat woman. His voice had a slight rise in it. "Good afternoon! Is my Most Beloved Old Hag in good health?" Rahela saw his arm bend and his covered hand move up. He flicked the long sleeve down to free the hand. Rahela looked up again, just long enough to see the Emperor pinch some of the meat veil and pull on it a few times. A second or more was the given time for Rahela to wonder how the woman would react.

The tall woman's bosom shifted with a titter, then a small cackle. One of the woman's hands took the Emperor's wrist in a light grip. "I'm in excellent health." She sounded so oddly young! Not girlish, certainly not, but there was no strain nor weakness. "Is my Most Beloved Lout in good health?"

Pulling his arm away and out of the woman's grip, the Emperor said, "I'm hearty and keen." That same arm flicked back toward Rahela. "This is the Testoan princess I've chosen to be my bride." He seemed to put his hands together at his ribs. Then he took some steps back and made very light bow, hardly a bow at all, but it was most certainly a bow.

The only person the Emperor would bow to.

"She was once the ruling monarch of Testoa," the Emperor continued, "but she abdicated the title and became a commoner. I had her old title of Princess recovered, and then I accompanied her here. I've prayed that you would accept her." He nodded towards Rahela. "Little Princess, this is Empress Dowager Naran Sarnai Hermol."

Rahela's stomach seemed to fold and stretch. She had to swallow down something. She wasn't sure what it was, but the movement in her throat reinforced her ability to keep her composure.

The Empress Dowager, the woman in the meat clothing, she turned towards Rahela and asked with a laugh, "Is this even an adult? Aha!"

"We aren't Tashkilan," the Emperor cracked out. "Now Mother, I'll remind you that this Princess knows little of Yahsin. So you must forgive and help her whenever she stumbles."

Shrugging a bit, tapping a palm with the opposing hand's tight fingers, the Empress Dowager said, "Tolerance and patience are two of the finest qualities. Have you forgotten who gave you this maxim?" Despite her height, her footsteps were light. Rahela soon understood why her skirts had seemed so long when she was seated. All that fabric was necessary. "I'll see her face now." She moved her fingers down and touched Rahela's chin. Rahela had to look up at her face.

If one would imagine the Emperor as a woman of high status and no signs of past combat, then that would be the Empress Dowager. Pale skin with no scars. A straight and elegant nose. Her black eyebrows were slightly thinner than her son's but they were still on the thicker side. Old age wasn't explicit anywhere. Rahela wondered if she had fine health, and perhaps that was why there were only some thin lines instead of wrinkles, and certainly no liver spots. Even when Rahela had seen the Empress Dowager's hands, there weren't even any bulging veins. Maybe an odd crinkle was in one spot or another, but otherwise Rahela wanted to call those hands smooth.

The tall woman's dark brown eyes lit up as they seemed to focus in on Rahela's. For a peculiar moment, Rahela had forgotten that her own eyes were so unusual. Whenever she needed a mirror, she hardly every looked at them. She'd never even been surprised by them. Old news. To this older woman, however, it would be very fresh news. Her mild fascination was understandable.

"You were very fortunate, Son," the Empress Dowager said. "She has eyes that could enchant you for years." Her fingers left Rahela's jaw and she stepped away. "Yet her size is regrettable."

"Please don't take offense, Your Highness." That voice came from the woman that was still seated at the board game. It was sugary, almost bird-like. "My mother insults everyone she meets, including those she loves."

Rahela looked to that other woman, who quickly got up.

This other woman seemed younger and shorter than the Empress Dowager and the Emperor, although she was taller than Rahela. Her surcoat was a reddish-brown color with a pattern of white flowers and leaves. The gown underneath was green with vertical rows of bone buttons on the sleeves.

She had on a white wimple that was draped over her bosom and back. The bottom of the wimple was like a square or diamond. A corner was on each shoulder. A corner's point was down between her breasts, another was apparently hanging a bit away from her back. There were a few bordering stripes of black and gold on the edges. Her cloak was light brown.

And her eyes were different.

She had similar features on her face, obviously related to the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, but her eyes were gold. Shimmery gold.

And so was the headdress on her head, lovely gold. Similar to the Empress Dowager's in shape and style, but gold.

Even though that woman wasn't wearing too much of it, Rahela could only think of the word gold.

The Empress Dowager pointed with a hand to the shorter woman. "This is my daughter, Princess Tuya Isay Hermol."

"Why is she here, by the by?" That was the Emperor. He folded his arms, his sleeves dangling. "It's not time for her to attend court."

Princess Tuya answered for her mother, which was acceptable since she was the subject of the moment. "I had a divorce."

"Oh?" Some of the Emperor's hair fell over his cheek as he tilted his head to one side. He had a curious sparkle in his eyes. "Any children?"

Her lower eyelids constricting only slightly, her fingers lacing together at her belly, Princess Tuya calmly replied, "I've yet to claim that honor."

Straightening his neck, his voice almost curt, the Emperor said, "That's a tragedy. I'll ask the gods to find you a new husband." Then, as if he'd never even asked about such an apparently sore topic, he smiled at his mother. "Would you care for my Betrothed tonight? Until we've been married, she must have a guide every day."

Putting curled fingers under her own jaw and chin, the Empress Dowager said, "It's my duty. I'll gladly toil for you."

His smile growing, the Emperor said, "Delightful. I'll watch you for a few minutes, if you have no objections."

Looking over to one of the girl children, the Empress Dowager said, "We'll need some musicians and a male dancer." Not even pausing to ask a question, one of the girls got to her feet, bowed, took some of her skirts in her hand, and ran off.

Bowing again, although less deeply than before, Rahela put a palm to her bosom and told the Empress Dowager, "Your Majesty, may I ask, am I meant to learn how to dance for feasts and other celebrations?" Her maids-in-waiting couldn't have been able to teach her everything, and eventually Rahela had to do some teaching of her own.

Curling some of her pearl necklace around a finger, her eyes both interested and haughty, the older woman said, "Yes. There are many dances for you to learn. I don't see why you shouldn't have a lesson right now."

Someone arranged some chairs for the Emperor and his boys to sit in. Lightly scratching a scalp, nearly grimacing, the Emperor said, "My Betrothed must cherish her health. Dancing will keep her feet light and her heart stable."

"She'll sleep easier tonight," Princess Tuya said as she waved her fingers towards the chairs at the board game. Two of the ladies-in-waiting went to move the chairs away from the board and put them closer to the Emperor. The two royal women sat down, the Empress Dowager between her adult children. Then she told Rahela's maids to stand near them so Rahela would have more space.

It was a thorny moment, an uncomfortable moment, Rahela standing by herself, gazed at like she was something behind a cage. All she could do, at least all she could do while being polite, was quietly keep to her spot and wait for the musicians and dancer to arrive.

Princess Tuya smoothed out some of the fabric on her shoulder as she whispered something into her mother's ear. The Emperor reached over to pinch a bit of lint off of a squire's sleeve. Yana bent down to have Oksana help her with a pin in her headdress.

The girl from before returned soon. She'd brought a trio of musicians and a male dancer. The dancer took Rahela's cloak for her and handed it off to Yana.

That was when it began.

Kindly instructed. Movement after movement. At times, her hair cases clacked against each other. The rain was almost a background instrument, putting another layer to the music. Her skirt had to be held a certain way. Sometimes, when there wasn't any music, Rahela heard one of the many females on the balcony giggle. She even saw them whispering to each other. As for the Emperor, his expression turned calm and curious once the lesson began and it didn't change.

At one moment, the dancer told her that her flowing sleeves might be difficult with this dance. Most women in Yahsin, at least the richer ones, didn't wear such sleeves. They were considered to be old fashioned and almost masculine for a woman's beautiful set of arms. All that fabric was hiding parts of Rahela's body as she danced, and that might not do.

But once the dancer finished telling Rahela about the problems with her sleeves, the Emperor spoke out. "The sleeves are dignified. If she can learn to dance with them in the future, then she'll have a charmed husband."

Rahela used one of those apparently charming sleeves of hers to hide her lips. Then she lowered her head. Her face was hot with embarrassment.

"Ah, I must tend to my little page," the Emperor suddenly said. Rahela's cheeks cooled off at that. She let her eyes slide back up. The Emperor was getting up and telling his squires something. Then he flicked a wrist, making one of his sleeves burst out. "Little Princess, you'll be sent to the dining hall for dinner. Don't fret. I'll be there."

As the Emperor and his squires left, almost everyone bowed, or got up to bow. The lesson continued after that. It was mostly the same as before. A bunch of women and girls watched Rahela listen to instructions and practice movements. No doubt, they thought her crude attempts were funny. Rahela could see the hints of laughter peeking through the cracks of their fairly aloof expressions. The most warmth, if there were was any to be found, came from the mellow smiles of Princess Tuya and the Empress Dowager.

That princess spoke out during one irksome moment where Rahela didn't understand how to imitate a step. "Ah, Princess Rahela, you must hold jolly thoughts! That will help you move more beautifully!"

Touching a corner of her lips with her pearl necklace, the Empress Dowager added, "And when you have gloomy music, you must hold similar thoughts."

Rahela didn't know what to think of those comments, but she accepted them all the same.

More and more time, her feet and legs were sore. Her arms felt stiff. Rahela had to wipe sweat away. It didn't matter how cool the air was.

Rising, dropping her necklace's length, the Empress Dowager said, "That's enough. You'll have another lesson at another time." Her fingernails tapped the back of one of the empty chairs. "Sit."

"Yes Madam," Rahela said after a little bow. She briskly went on to that chair and sat down with a whispering sort of groan. Smiling, Yana put her cloak over the chair's back.

Leaning in Rahela's direction, the Empress Dowager asked, "Have you wanted for anything here in Yahsin?"

"No Madam." One of Rahela sleeves landed on her lap. She had to pull it aside. "I've no complaints."

The Empress gave a very tilted, "Is that so?" It was tilted on the word so. Still, her face was so calm. Any lingering amusement had faded away when the dancing lesson had ended. "You'll have complaints tomorrow." On the word tomorrow, there was a new change. The calmness was disturbed by a blooming grin. It was charming, but it wasn't quite amused.

Rahela layered her hands on her lap and asked, "Your Majesty, how many complaints am I meant to have?"

The lips closed with a "hmm." Then the face turned back to address Princess Tuya. "How many complaints will this Tiny Princess have?"

Princess Tuya nodded her head once, also grinning a bit, and said, "Ten."

Fiddling with some of the pearls on her meat veil, the Empress Dowager's bosom swelled, and then she held the breath down. Her eyes almost closed. A swallowed laugh. "I say fourteen. What will you wager?"

Immediately, that princess said, "My plum oil soap carving, the white rose with the red edges."

What was a plum? Rahela assumed it was some kind of plant, but she didn't know if it was even edible. Mentally, Rahela stomped the question away in a corner of her brain and said, "I welcome all the lessons offered to me. To learn more about this fine empire is the finest privilege."

"Have caution, Tiny Princess," the Empress Dowager said as she snapped her fingers at the musicians. "You could be accused of being a sycophant." She snapped her fingers again and looked over to someone with a lyre. "Play more. My daughter will dance for me."

"Is that so?" Princess Tuya calmly said as she rose. Her arms bent and her palms went to her sides under the surcoat. They slid as if she wanted to wipe something away. "Don't fall asleep."

"Don't trip," the Empress Dowager countered.

As that princess danced, Rahela watched while the Empress Dowager used an index finger to point at and follow the movements. She also told Rahela a few things. The princess' arm is at that angle because of this and that. Her foot is right there. Her neck is this way. Rahela supposed it was useful to have a worthy example to admire.